I’ve been MIA here for over a month for a very sad reason. On November 19th I took Keola to the vet because he was drooling and I thought he had an infected tooth. I’d given him Gabapentin to calm him down, and Dr. Zambelli was able to get a really good look into his mouth. She had tears in her eyes when she told me that he had osteosarcoma; she could see it clearly without having to take x-rays. She told me that it was a very aggressive cancer, and only gave my boy a few weeks to live. I was devastated, to say the least. So I brought him back home again. What also made this so difficult was that he acted normally, walking ahead of me down the hallway begging me for some cuddle time, sleeping next to me at night, and eating well.
But as the days went on, eating became more and more difficult for him. Despite pain meds, it got harder and harder for him to swallow, and he couldn’t keep his tongue in his mouth. He was hungry, but as the days went on, he couldn’t eat enough to be satisfied. His drooling got much worse, and it was clear to me that the time had come to let him go.
So on December 11th, we made the last sad trip to see Dr. Zambelli, who was just as sad as we were. She and her staff were just wonderful; they provided a beautiful blanket for Keola, and I was able to hold him for the whole time. He stayed calm and quiet, and before Dr. Zambelli came in, he was exploring the room like he usually did.
I’m crying as I type this post. I miss my boy so much, still expecting to see him in the usual places. He was 13 1/2, and I’m grateful that we were able to adopt him from the shelter and give him a good life here. Like my former vet said, we do the most painful thing for us but the kindest thing for them. I am trying hard to hold onto this.
If you’d like to read his adoption story, it’s here.
I picture him now, running happily with Noelani, his sister. They bonded immediately when I brought her home from the same shelter, even though they’d never met before.
Aloha ʻoe, my Keola. I will never forget you, my boy.
A Mānoa Girl's Bloggie 
I’m so sorry to read what happened, and over the holidays, too. Your former vet is right, of course, but that doesn’t alleviate the wrenching pain of losing them. You’re in my heart.
Thanks, Michelle. It was definitely more difficult because it was over the holidays. “Wrenching pain” perfectly describes it. Thank you so much for your kind words.
OH how hard!!! I am so so so sorry to hear….what an adorable kitty and doing what is best for them is very often the hardest, sigh. I know when I lose a little fur baby, I swear I see them around for weeks or more- glimpses of them (spirit?)…. big hugs oxoxoxoxo
It has been so hard not to have him around. I’m glad he’s not suffering anymore, but like you, it still feels like I see him around, even now. Thank you for the hugs… I am very grateful for them.
I’m so sorry to hear about your darling Keola. I’m going to paraphrase a line from a movie that can be very cheesy (The Other Side of the Mountain) but it’s very true: How lucky you were to love something so much that losing was so damned awful. We love deeply, even when we know we’re going to lose them, but it’s worth it.
Thanks to you, Keola was able to live a happy life where he was loved, well fed, well cared for, and valued. I hope that at least provides a little comfort to you during this very hard time.
Big hugs to you, Sistah.
Oh, I love that paraphrase. I did love him deeply even though I knew that I was going to lose him. It does comfort me to know that we gave him a good home and provided him with lots of love, and that he didn’t have to live longer in a kennel (Humane Society of SW Washington is a fabulous shelter, though). Everytime I come across a photo of him, which is practically every day, I shed a few more tears. Mahalo nui for caring.